Mica
by Imperial Mint
Summary: For vergina-spva. It started with a curiosity. Now, Smoker won't admit he was probably in deeper waters than he'd bargained for. Izo/Smoker.


**Pairing: **Izo/Smoker  
><strong>Notes:<strong> For vergina-spva and tumblr prompts (#20 was PenPals!AU). Thank you and I hope you enjoy! This is also unbetaed, so feel free to point out any mistakes.

**.**

Smoker had no idea what he was doing. He'd only mentioned it to Hina because she wouldn't stop bothering him, and she'd waked off, hand covering her mouth in amusement.

"You're playing a dangerous game," she'd said, but Hina hadn't discouraged him. That didn't mean he had any more of an idea what he was doing, writing to one of the Whitebeard Pirate commanders, but here he was.

Letter in hand, Smoker sat down at his table. He'd taken his issued jacket from his shoulders a while ago, and two cigars were lit swiftly, the smoke curling, the smell filling the room. While he scanned the letter, Smoker let himself relax a little, his own smoke joining his cigars as he let his form slip. For some reason, becoming smoke made him feel a little more comfortable when reading the letters.

He set the letter down, picking up his quill and ink. Smoker drew on his cigars, letting the smoke sit inside of himself for a moment, before he began to compose his own letter.

To be truthful, a few other marines had received messages from the notorious pirate crew. Smoker, it seemed, had been the only one to reply. Nothing interesting was held in the letters' contents, so he really didn't understand why he kept on replying, but Smoker always felt his stomach tighten when the news coo flew into their base.

Smoker's cigar spilt ash onto the letter, but he brushed it off with a grunt, continuing on. He signed his name bluntly, dropping his quill and reaching for fresh cigars when he was finished. The ink would dry overnight and he'd sent it off in the morning. They had birds that were trained for various ships, and Smoker had managed to find one that monitored Whitebeard.

No one cared if he was sending a pirate messages. Smoker's moral code was unbreakable and he'd sworn he'd capture every pirate he needed to. Letters were nothing compared to his will.

He lit his cigar and sat back, closing his eyes and letting himself fade to smoke. His body felt free, the freedom his letter-mate had spoken of as his reason for heading out to sea.

Smoker huffed in laughter to himself, shaking his head and standing, leaving the letter and his desk in favour of his bed. There was no such thing as freedom for a pirate.

**.**

If someone had told Smoker he'd be facing off against the Whitebeard Pirates, he'd have laughed. As it was, he'd been assigned to escort goods off of an island – an island that fell under Whitebeard's jurisdiction. They'd managed to load their ship up before an entire division had come snapping at their heels.

"Hina doesn't like this," Hina said, slipping her gloves on her hands with a scowl as they exited onto the warship proper.

Smoker narrowed his eyes, wondering what kind of idiot's command they'd been placed under. The ship was a mess, Whitebeard's men already overwhelming them.

As Hina moved forwards, Smoker slunk back. If they broke through – which was looking very likely – then the pirates would want their cargo. Smoker would act as the final defence.

He didn't have to wait for long. A shadowed figure stole into the cargo hold and Smoker began to let himself drift. He wished he'd picked up his cigars, but he'd have to finish off this intruder first it seemed.

"Not so fast," a smooth voice said at Smoker's back. He tensed, eyes widening when he realised seastone was being pressed against the nape of his neck.

"Start taking the cargo out," the voice continued. Why had Smoker assumed there would only be one of them?

"So, I can tell you what will happen," the man behind him said. A gun was pressed against Smoker's temple, and he had no choice but to obey so long as the seastone was against his skin.

"We're going to take our cargo back. We're going to get off this ship. We're going to leave," the man sighed deeply, as if he was bored. "And you're going to let us."

Pirates began streaming in, and Smoker understood just how vast one division of Whitebeard's pirates was. Their lone warship was nothing to them.

"Are you still transferring out of the Grand Line?" the voice asked curiously. Smoker stiffened, teeth grinding together as he realised who his captor was.

"I leave in a week," he grated out, hand coming up to wrap around Izo's wrist. Izo allowed the hand holding the gun to be pulled back, though Smoker half expected him to shoot at any moment.

"I'll miss our letters," Izo said, words whispering against Smoker's ear. The seastone pressed harder against his neck and Smoker let out a shuddered breath.

Izo's arm fell to his side and Smoker let go, fingertips smoothing over skin. He knew the moment he let go, Izo would be off, back to his own ship and his own men. The letters would stop too.

His fingers did slip into thin air, though, and, as Smoker predicted, Izo was gone in a moment. The cargo hold was emptier than it had been before, but it was nothing compared to the odd feeling in Smoker's chest.

When he joined the others, the cannons were still rigged up where they'd been that morning and the Whitebeard Pirate's ship was far on the horizon. Hina joined him, lips thin as she tapped her chin.

"Hina thinks Loguetown will be good for you," she said softly.

Smoker thought she might be right.

**.**

Reviews are always appreciated, thank you for reading!


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